


My Favorite Toy

by dirksnipples



Series: Freak Show [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P Hetalia, Beating, Blood, Death, Desire, Emotional Manipulation, Hatred, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, cannibalism mention, evil thoughts, regenerate, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 22:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirksnipples/pseuds/dirksnipples
Summary: Allen loves his toy.





	My Favorite Toy

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing it.
> 
> May want to read the first part to get completely.

He had grown up with him, he knew what each thing this man did, from each inner layer, to each outer layer. Oliver Kirkland was like an onion, and Allen knew more about him than any other nation that existed. It didn’t really take being adopted to know all of the layers, nor did it take being a “friend” to know either. No, what it took was pulling strings. Allen Jones pulled every little string that Oliver had hidden inside of him, and he pulled and prodded at the most sensitive parts when Oliver was in his darkest hours. No one told him it was wrong when he first did it, it wasn’t like his brother James really stayed around long enough to actually watch what he was doing, nor did he care if James was there in the first place. Oliver never made friends with the other nations, nor did, well, any of them really, make friends with the 1P nations. 

Allen remembers Francois talking to Oliver about the meetings, and Allen didn’t really understand at the time. Why would France be relaying the information? Shouldn’t England be there? It was an all nations meeting, both 1 and 2 P having their annual “talk of the century” as they liked to call it, and Oliver stayed back every time, always having the information relayed to him. 

“He’s not aloud to cross onto their side.” Francois told him one day. He was just hitting his teens, being brought along to his first meeting. 

“What do you mean?” Allen had asked, picking at a scab that was still healing. He wasn’t strong enough to regenerate as fast as he other nations quite yet, and the cut was really deep. Oliver was having one of his… _episodes._

Francois took one glance at the cut across Allen’s hand, and snorted. “I figured this would be self explanatory.” 

And suddenly it clicked in Allen’s mind. He blushed a bit from embarrassment, and Francois had chuckled, and ruffled his hair. It was rare to see this side of him, he didn’t particularly care for others, but he was a bit happy to see he still wanted to baby Allen...or it seemed like that. He didn’t really know. 

“Why does he act like this?” Allen had asked as they got into a fancy car. The older nation muttered something in French, completely lost to the younger. He then looked down at the young boy, sitting back in his seat. 

“Who knows. I don’t really care what happens to him. If he ceases to exist, I would prefer it.” 

Allen didn’t ask anymore questions. The hatred in his voice was evident, and it didn’t take a genius to know that when that tone came out of anyone’s voice, it was best to shut up. 

He never really asked much about Oliver after that. It was clear to Allen that no one knew anything. No, he had to test the waters, and even if that meant getting pricked here and there were how to get them, well...Allen loved the challenge. It felt exhilarating, like a game almost. Push Oliver to the edge, peel him layer by layer and see what makes him tick. See what makes him scream, see what makes him snap!

It was a game, and Allen wanted to know all of the rules and win. 

That was how it had started. 

Allen made sure to space every event out, making sure that every time his big brother chases him with the knife that he did things that made that crazy brain dance. 

Every time he let himself get tied up, he made sure to manipulate Oliver by saying such evil things to him, that when he finally got to the last layer, Oliver was so gone. So gone and exposed, and he made sure he was there to pick up all of the pieces!

Except that his plan had back fired just as he was testing the last layer. He knew that something was really wrong with this man, especially since he never ate at the same time Allen did. He could never catch why, or what he ate. He figured it was just paranoia, and he’d been good at hiding it. It was already known that Oliver had murderous intentions, he’s been killed far too many times to know, but just what was he hiding? 

And then he found it. 

He found it and he loved it. Next thing he knew, his big brother was attacking him, talking about how they should play a game like they always do. Allen smirked at him, grabbing ahold of Oliver’s pale pink locks, and yanking that disgusting face back. 

“If it’s a game y’ want, then I’ll fucking wreck y’!” Allen snapped, and Oliver seemed to be filled with disgust, yelling at him, scratching at him, and Allen added fuel to the fire, using every word that made Oliver’s skin crawl. Made the wall of layers that the man had up crumble. Made him remember all of the terrible shit Oliver’s own big brother did to him. Made him remember just how hated he was, made him feel like things were prickling his skin, made him claw at himself in a desperate attempt to get the memories out. 

Allen knew he had the upper hand, he just had to coax a secret out of Oliver like usual, and then reassure him like he always did. It was so easy, until it wasn’t. 

Oliver had perfected his traps in their little game, slammed Allen’s head down hard against the end table. Allen was trying to regain himself when he felt leather clasp around his wrists. He could feel panic fill him, he should have stopped. 

He yanked and tugged to get free, but the party was just getting started. That was the first time in his life that being used as someone else’s lunch had hurt worse than the torture he’d endured trying to out best the other nations. 

Oliver knew just what he needed to do to keep him alive the whole way through, and Allen didn’t know what to feel. He felt desire, but also seething hatred until it had ended abruptly. Seeing Francois flat out murder his brother like it was nothing. Watch Francois help him free, muttering about leaving. 

Muttering about how Oliver was a lost cause. 

“You should leave. You’re old enough, become independent.”

But really, that was just the beginning. 

Even after he had abandoned Oliver, he feigned fear around his brother. Feigned innocence and love toward Oliver. Watching his precious older brother be reduced to nothing but oozing shreds of flesh by the hands of his own family was how Allen got to sleep at night. 

Until he noticed something. 

Oliver seemed rather distant, he had made his brother snap, reassured him that he would never leave him, but here Oliver was, acting like his words meant nothing. It pissed Allen off to no end. And at this stupid meeting that took place in their world since Oliver had to attend it, he saw what had caught his brother’s interest. 

That stupid 1P America. His stupid counterpart. The way Oliver hung off of him, the way his ass perked out presenting itself, the way those slacks tightened-

Allen snapped. 

When he pulled his brother away, he knew that there was more to his brother that he hadn’t seen. He’s seen Oliver’s lust plenty of times while he was being eaten alive, but something about this particular lust was different. He didn’t like it. He wanted to do something about it. 

Especially after he found his counterpart down in Oliver’s basement, releasing every layer that Oliver held up. It took him years to peel them, yet it took less than a day for this asshole. Allen wanted to kill him, wanted to drown him, skin him alive!

The maniacal laughter that erupted from Oliver’s beautiful throat, the way he came just from taking a single bite out of that _filth!_ How fucking dare this stupid animal make Oliver act this way! It drove Allen crazy. The way Oliver drooled, the way his dick twitched, the way he lost his mind around Alfred, the way he got to show Alfred the disgusting things that crawled up inside of him!

Allen hit Oliver hard across the head with his bat. He brought the bat down again, and again, and again, _andagainandagainandagainand-!_

That single, lifeless dead eye that bobbled out of the socket made him shiver. He panted softly, looking at the man in front of him, hatred filling him. He gripped his bat hard, wanted to pound that stupid face in!

But that would never bring him satisfaction. 

Y’ shouldn’t be here.” Was all Allen spoke, before leaning in and undoing Alfred’s restraints. “I’ll take y’ home, but after this, never step foot in here again. He’s not aloud to leave, so you’ll be fine as long as y’ stay away.”

 

Allen grit his teeth hard, before letting himself calm. He pulled out his hand gun, pressing it to Alfred’s head. 

He had to play the good guy, make it look like he was looking out for Oliver. Like he cared about the damn rules, like he “cared” about Alfred’s well being. 

“Never come back.” He seethed. 

_Bang!_

After that, he took the nation home. He couldn’t draw suspicion, this would make everything more complicated than before, and he wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted Oliver to go back to crying for him, crying to fix his pain. Crying about the bugs _crawling up his skin, eating him from the inside out!_

_’Get them out Allen! They’re prickling every inch of me! Theyre eating me alive, help me! GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!’_

And the way he clawed at himself. Clawing and looking so vulnerable, oh he relished it all. 

_He would do anything to keep that filth away from his toy._


End file.
